


until you see the blood on your hands

by V_e_s_a_n_u_s



Series: Whumptober 2018 [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Blood, City Elf Origin, Elven Alienages, Panic, Panic Attacks, Whumptober, duncan's a sweetheart, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 08:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16171508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_e_s_a_n_u_s/pseuds/V_e_s_a_n_u_s
Summary: Day number 2 for whumptober! Prompt was bloody hands!It was the first time Kallian had to kill. It felt right in the heat of the moment, but now she looks down and sees the blood on her hands and realises she can't take it. She never expected it to feel like this.





	until you see the blood on your hands

It was her wedding day. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion. How did it end up like this?

There were 5 of them, all terrified and defenceless and cowering in that damned Lord Vaughan’s house. Waiting to be taken away and have all manner of blighted things done to them. _Damn those shems,_ Kallian thought sourly, trying to think of a way out. This time, they’d gone too far.

That was when the door opened and the guards came in, “Hello, wenches,” one of them leered, “We’re your escorts to Lord Vaughan’s party.”

 _Bloody sleaze,_ Kallian’s nostrils flared, assessing the best way to attack them. Her training had only been with her mother, she’d never actually used her skills in practice. But she knew the theory well enough, and she definitely wouldn’t mind cutting the slimy humans standing in front of her down.

She couldn’t do anything, though, because it was in that moment that one of the girls stood up, shouting “Stay away from us!”

She was cut down without a moment’s hesitation: a strong arc of a glittering metal sword shining in the candlelight before it sliced across the girl’s throat. His face was disgusted as he watched her crumple to the ground in front of him, as if the girl was offending him by dying in his presence.

“You-you _killed_ her!” Someone cried, bringing her hands to cover her face and look away.

“I suppose that’s what happens when you try teaching whores some respect,” he spat, giving a snide grin as he watched the horror grow on all of their faces. He barked some orders at his men, telling them which women to bring with them. The soldiers approached the girls with their greasy hands and lecherous grins and they left kicking and screaming with them.

Kallian narrowed her eyes at the leader, who had turned to her, smirking. “Bind that last one,” he said, gesturing to her, “She’s the scrapper.”

 _I’ll show you the meaning of the word,_ her mind spat back, but aloud she said nothing, raising her chin in defiance. It earned a short laugh from the captain as he turned and left.

“Don’t worry,” another guard approached her with the ropes stretched tightly between his hands as a threat, “We’ll be _perfect_ gentlemen.”

“Now you heard the captain. Be a good little wench,” the other guard snarled, “Or you’ll end up like your friend, there,” he pointed with a thumb to the still twitching body in the pool of blood in the middle of the stone floor.

“Try it,” Kallian snapped back, baring her teeth, “See what parts you lose first.”

The guard simply laughed at her in response, “Horace was right! She is a scrapper!”

They both approached her, taking careful steps coming from each angle, so she couldn’t focus on either one of them at once. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two, keeping light on her toes as she raised her fists. The tension in the room was so thick, you could almost hear it, but was suddenly broken by an uncertain voice.

“Uh… hello?” Soris popped his head around the corner of the door, red hair shining unnaturally bright in the candlelight.

“Ho, look at this! A little elfling with a stolen sword,” the guards turned around and laughed at him, seeing the lithe elf as no threat. That was what he was planning on.

As they took a step towards him, Soris moved quickly, sliding the sword in his hand along the floor and through their legs with a metallic ring. By the time they’d spun back around to Kallian, she already had the sword raised and ready.

“Oh, sod.”

That was all either of them could say before Kallian charged, slicing at them, using all the skills her mother had taught her. “Fight like it’s your last fight,” she used to say, “Because if you don’t, it might be,” and so she did. By the end, when the guards were cut down and their armour in ragged pieces covered with dents and deep scratches, Kallian was sweating and their blood ran down the borrowed sword quickly, covering her hands before dripping to the floor.

Soris gave her a hug, bringing her in and holding her to his chest tightly, before holding her at arm’s length to look at her, “Are you alright?” Kallian nodded in response, and her cousin breathed a sigh of relief before turning to the dead girl in the middle of the room amidst the guards’ bodies, “I can’t believe they killed her. Are you sure you’re alright? They… didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I’m _fine,_ Soris,” she gave him a grin, “Let’s just get the others and get out of here. I smell like a shem,” The red-head laughed at that, and they headed out into the rest of the manor.

They had to fight their way through almost every room, leaving a stream of dead bodies in their wake. They never had a moment to rest or consider it before more guards were attacking. All they could think was: _get to the girls._

And then finally, they opened the last door, and on the other side there was that creep Lord Vaughan. The more Kallian thought about it, the more he _deserved_ to be thwacked on the head with a vase. Repeatedly. Until he stopped moving.

“My, my. What have we here?” The sleaze almost seemed impressed.

“Don’t worry about them! We’ll make short work of these two!” One of his guards piped up, readying his sword.

Vaughan snapped back at him sternly, eyes harsh, “Quiet, you idiot! They’re covered in enough blood to fill a tub! What do you think that means?”

“You tell me,” Kallian said indignantly, acutely aware of Shianni lying on the floor. She was still clothed, thankfully, but she looked injured.

“All right, let’s not be hasty here. Surely we can talk this over…”

“No,” Soris said shortly, and Kallian agreed.

“We want your head, nothing more.”

“Bah!” Vaughan growled, throwing his hands up in frustration, “I always regret talking to knife-ears!” He gave a sinister smile, “Now I’ll just gut your ignorant carcasses, instead!”

The battle went by in a blur, metal hitting metal and that ever-present, loud metallic hissing as their blades sang through the air. Before she knew it, Kallian was plunging her sword deep into the blighted shem’s chest. She stared furiously into his eyes as he died, watching those last moments and she _relished_ in them. Her blood was on fire with adrenaline and she enjoyed watching his agony. Just as he had enjoyed their pain. It felt good. It felt righteous.

When it was over, Soris and Kallian ran to the elf lying on the ground. They calmed her, stopped the panic rising in her voice. Kallian lifted her up, throwing her arm over her shoulder and supporting her so she could limp along with them.

Shianni turned to her, wide and frightened eyes boring into hers, “You killed them, didn’t you? You killed them all?”

That question struck Kallian like a tonne of bricks. She felt a lump form in her throat, suddenly feeling the weight of what she had done, “I-”

“She did! You should have _seen_ her, Shianni, she slaughtered them like animals!” Soris replied with a grin, “That’s our Kallian! Ever the scrapper.”

Usually, that would have been a compliment. Now, it just felt wrong. She felt the adrenaline start to leave her system, and she felt… numb. It wasn’t right. It was wrong, somehow.

She couldn’t focus on that right now.

 

* * *

 

It was a long walk back to their home, but finally, _finally,_ they limped into the Alienage. Kallian passed Shianni onto the healers to get her on the road to recovery. She’d got worse on the journey, becoming ever paler and dizzy. Soris stayed with her, recounting their tale to her father and Duncan, who were awaiting their return with trepidation.

Kallian leant against the wall, sighing. She glanced down at her hands awkwardly as Soris recounted the tale of her so-called bravery, and she gasped as she did. Her hands… they were red. Covered, from wrist to fingertips in bright red blood. She couldn’t take her eyes off the horrifying sight.

Suddenly, it had all become real.

The Grey Warden was watching her, and excused himself from the conversation to pull Kallian round a corner and out of sight. “How are you feeling?” Duncan asked, seeing a peculiar expression on the elf’s face. Something that wasn’t quite right. Her eyes were just a bit too unfocused, her face just a little bit too disconnected.

That was when she cracked.

Her eyes were wide and glassy, staring at nothing, seeing things she didn’t want to see but saw nonetheless. The blood was draining from her face, leaving it pale and hallowed, her face only now beginning to crack and reveal the raw, unbridled emotion within. Her hands shook before her, starting as soft trembles but soon her whole form was wracked with shudders. Staring at those hands in front of her. Those hands- _her_ hands. Covered in blood. Some dried, cracked in her palm. Some still wet. Fresh.

She sobbed.

“N-no, no no _no!”_ She cried. She couldn’t understand. How could she have _done_ that? She killed people. She cut them down where they stood with no mercy. None of them ever touched her: none of them ever hurt _her._ Why did she do it? _Why?_

They were all dead. All of them dead, gone, dust. They had lives they could go back to, friends who would miss them, families just _waiting_ for them to come home. But they wouldn’t. All that was left of them now was the blood on her hands.

She didn’t have to. But she did.

Duncan saw the rising panic in the tension in her shoulders and her shaking form. He knew that look, even more, he _understood_ it.

“Hey! Hey, easy, Kallian,” he said softly, his gruff voice almost straining with the effort. He placed harsh calloused hands on her shoulders gently, trying to stop the trembling. “It’s okay.”  
“No- _no!”_ Her voice broke as she spoke around the lump in her throat, “I-I… what did I do? _What did I do?”_

“You did what you _had_ to, Kallian,” Duncan sat her down slowly, keeping his hands on her shoulders, reassuring and calming, but it wasn’t helping, “They were going to hurt you, to hurt your friends. You had to protect them.”

“I d-didn’t have to ki-kill them!” Kallian’s voice was rising in pitch, evidence of her growing panic as she tried to speak through her hyperventilation, staring at those hands, those bloodied hands- “I killed them, _I killed them, I-”_

“Kallian,” Duncan said, covering her hands with his own and squeezing them tightly, trying to ground her, “Kallian, look at me.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, mind completely blank in horror, her hands still in front of her and shaking. Slowly, ever so slowly, she raised her teary eyes and met his with an unsteady gaze. In her eyes, Duncan could see the delirious terror in her eyes. She couldn’t understand how she’d done what she had. All he needed to do was make her see that it _wasn’t her fault._

“Everything is okay, child,” he kept solid eye-contact, not letting her head duck away like she was trying to, “Everything is okay. Just listen to me - and _breathe,_ can you do that for me?”

Kallian took an uneasy breath and gave a shaky nod, eyes on Duncan’s dark ones.

“I know what you’re feeling - trust me, I do - and it’s awful. But you _know_ that you didn’t kill those men out of spite,” she winced when he said ‘kill’ but Duncan was already moving on, “Not because you _wanted_ to, or because you _enjoyed_ it. You did it because you _had_ to. You were protecting yourself and the lives of your friends and those other girls. Maker knows, killing those men was the _right_ thing. You understand that, right? You did the right thing. What happened was not your fault.”

“I-I… but I-”

_“It was not your fault.”_

There was a moment of silence. Kallian scanned his eyes for any uncertainty, to see if he was actually telling the truth and he meant it. But his gaze was clear and sincere, his dark, aged eyes showing honesty from experience. Seeing that certainty in his eyes calmed her down more than she could have expected. She held his gaze as her breathing settled, as her eyes dried and her hands stopped shaking.

Kallian looked at their linked hands, where his hands covered her own bloodied ones, “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

Duncan nodded and let her stand when she moved to get up. He stood with her, ensuring she was steady before stepping back to give her space. “It was no trouble. As I said, I’ve been in the same position before. I only wish someone was there to help me through it.”

The elf gave him a shaky, grateful smile and a nod, “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon, then?”

“Yes, I will. I’ll leave as soon as you’re okay. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I am. Thank you again, Duncan. For everything.”

The human bowed to her before taking his leave. He wasn’t going to find a recruit here. Not for a long time, anyway. Kallian Tabris was not ready. Maybe she never would be.

There would be other recruits. He would find them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Leave a comment or kudos if you have the time XD


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